Manifest Fantasy

Eldralore, Duchy of Eldralore

Sonaran Federation

November 18, 2024

Ron eased their MRAP into a parking spot near the Guild’s stables, taking an empty space marked for larger carriages and cargo. Henry glanced back at Ryan and Isaac’s MRAP as they maneuvered into a space beside them, struggling a bit with the trailer. Their cargo: samples and collected artifacts from Hardale – proof of their recent endeavors and vital components for Dr. Perdue’s and Dr. Lamarr’s requests.

“Alright, let’s make this quick,” Henry said, unbuckling his seatbelt. As he stepped out, he was met by a snarl – or perhaps a neigh, from dradaks in the stables. Failing to recognize Henry, they returned to their hay and meat, as if uninterested in anyone but the local handlers and their owners.

Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, Henry opened the door for Dr. Anderson and Sera, whose sight drew a few discreet glances from passersby. Ron joined Henry stretching his arms and back. “I’ll help Yen and Hayes with the trailer. You guys go ahead,” he said, tilting his head toward the Guild’s entrance.

Henry nodded, leading the way to the Guild with Dr. Anderson and Sera in tow. They rounded the corner before entering the main plaza, where they saw a large group of people standing by the fountain in the center. Several carriages were also parked near the road adjacent to the plaza, with numerous people moving back and forth from them carrying crates. “Look at that,” he murmured.

It was a diverse crew, easily three, maybe four dozen strong. Some were clad in leather and chainmail, others in robes that screamed ‘mage’ from a mile away. Well, they wore robes, yes, but their clothing was also reinforced with pieces of light chainmail and padded leather – much more practical than what he had seen in Ron’s fantasy anime shows or Ryan’s DnD campaigns. The robes themselves were marked with subtle runes and symbols seemingly woven into the fabric. Enchanted gear, perhaps?

The others had similarly practical getups, and matching gear to boot. Swords, staves, you name it – they had it. Each one of them was busy in his or her own way: analyzing maps, loading carriages, checking weapons, and double-checking supplies with a seriousness Henry knew all too well.

Henry’s eyes followed one figure in particular, a woman who stood out even in the crowd. It was the same person who approached him with a Clan invitation – Elara, the Tier 8 swordswoman. And if she was here, that meant the group was –

“The Mithril Order,” Sera muttered, confirming what Henry was already thinking. “It appears they are preparing for the Campaign.”

Henry watched them for a moment longer. Elara wasn’t kidding when she said her clan revolved around martial discipline. Everything about the preparation was professional, even down to the logistics. It was like watching his own team, just… more medieval fantasy.

“Let’s get moving,” he said, breaking away from the sight and heading into the Guild. Inside, the hustle and bustle was much more pronounced than he had expected. He thought back to the first time he came by and to the Minotaur quest – there hadn’t been a line as long as this, or any line at all for that matter. The queue snaked around a maze of stanchions, forcing them to wait in line like they were at a DMV or event.

Henry scanned the bustling rows of adventurers, a question forming in his mind. He turned to Sera. “Do you know what’s going on?”

She looked at Henry as if he was an idiot for not knowing before her expression relaxed – probably after remembering that Henry was a strange foreigner who just recently became an adventurer. “The Ovinne Mountain Campaign,” she said. “A dormant Elemental Dragon awakening from centuries, perhaps eons, of slumber is hardly a trivial matter. The ensuing chaos, as one might expect, has lured every would-be hero and spellcaster in the vicinity.”

Henry raised an eyebrow. An Elemental Dragon? It sounded mythical – Tier 10 for sure. “Sounds like a major operation,” he remarked, trying to grasp the magnitude of such a creature stirring.

“Major, to say the least,” Sera responded. “The local creatures are in utter turmoil, causing a cascade of ecological imbalance. The Federation, Garethia, and Ovinnegard find themselves obliged to confront such a menace – and obliged to exploit newly discovered Gatebuilder ruins. A campaign of this magnitude presents not just a formidable challenge, but, dare I suggest, a ripe opportunity for the foolhardy seeking glory.”

“Or those seeking riches,” Ron said, catching the tail end of her explanation. Ryan and Isaac strode up beside him, joining them in the line.

Sera turned towards the newcomers. “Indeed, the allure of riches does tend to stir the greedy hearts of many.” She glanced at Ryan and Isaac. “So the other valiant members of Captain Donnager’s ensemble finally grace us with their presence.”

“Yeah? A real shame we didn’t make introductions in Hardale,” Ryan said with blunt sarcasm, his annoyance barely veiled. He locked eyes with Sera before continuing, “Heard someone fucked over our SOP and had us on babysitting duty.”

Sera was unfazed, instead seeming to be emboldened by Ryan’s challenge. She gave a cool sardonic smile. “Ah, village babysitting, a noble task indeed for warriors of your caliber,” she replied, her tone playfully mocking. “My sincerest apologies for the hardship,” she continued, her voice dripping with feigned contrition.

Ryan bristled at the remark, his jaw tightening. “With all due respect, ma’am –”

Before he could retort, Isaac stepped in and placed a calming hand on Ryan’s shoulder. He cut him off, “I heard your expertise was invaluable in disabling that, uh… magic thing…”

“Rune System,” Dr. Anderson offered. He picked up on Isaac’s attempt at de-escalation. “I’ve never seen such a system before – we’re lucky to have had your wisdom.”

Sera’s expression softened slightly at their intervention, her smile turning into a more genuine one. “Rune System, yes,” she acknowledged with a nod. “A complex creation, harnessing forces yet shrouded in mystery, and fueled by a perilous relic from a bygone era. It was fortunate that our combined efforts proved sufficient to neutralize its influence.”

Ryan, now a bit more composed after hearing the rationale behind the abrupt change, added with a reluctant respect,” Yeah, I get it. Ryan Hayes, by the way.” His tone was still gruff, but the edge had softened. The presence of the Rune System was a pretty convenient excuse, but it did make sense to have someone specializing in magic able to help out during a magical anomaly.

“Isaac Yen,” Isaac said, offering a handshake. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Seraphine ad Sindis,” Sera responded, appreciating the formal introductions.

“Glad we’re all acquainted now,” Henry interjected. Seeking to change the topic, he turned to Sera, curiosity piqued by the scale of the operation and the line that still seemed to snake around despite the passing of several minutes. “What does it take to join a Campaign?”

“Intrigued, are you? A venture most audacious, but it’s more than presenting yourself armed for battle,” Sera explained. “Prerequisite to such an undertaking is membership in a Clan or a Tier 7 Party or higher. This is no endeavor for the inexperienced or the solitary. The hazards are immense, and the Guild – in accord with its regulations, seek not mere numbers. They require seasoned warriors, adept at facing the unpredictable and the perilous.”

“Tier 7 Party?” Ron asked.

Sera shuffled forward as the line progressed. Nodding, she explained, “A Tier 7 Party is one where each member holds at least a Tier 6 standing, yet it’s the leadership of a Tier 7 Adventurer or above that defines its essence. Such is one of the only exceptions by which a Tier 6 Adventurer may participate in quests above their rank.”

“And you?” Henry asked, tilting his head toward Sera. “Are you gonna join a Clan or Party for this Campaign?”

Sera gave a short, almost dismissive laugh. “Join a Party or Clan? Preposterous, Captain. My time amidst the nobility has shown me enough of such… power struggles. Soirees turned into strategic battlegrounds. I’ve observed, time and again, how adventuring parties often become a reflection of those very squabbles. Ambitions collide, and what one seeks is not always in harmony with the desires of others.”

Adventurers couldn’t all be like that, could they? No, they couldn’t, or else the entire system would have failed long ago. Henry nodded, remaining silent so Sera could continue.

Her gaze drifted away, off into the distance but focused on nowhere in particular. “Being of noble birth, I have borne witness to how personal aspirations can eclipse the greater good. Adventuring is somewhat of an escape, but not much so. It’s been elucidated to me, how such internal strife can prove… detrimental.”

Henry noticed the subtle shift in her tone. It was clear her stance was not just a casual preference but rooted in something deeper. He understood why she took the initiative back in Hardale. It didn’t make her actions less annoying, but at least now he could try to find a way around it.

She folded her arms, her eyes finding Henry’s once more. “As for myself, I prefer the solitary path. It affords a singular focus-, unmarred by the entanglements of collective aims and… let us say, the unpredictability of adventurers’ … acquaintanceship.”

Sera’s word choice spoke poorly of adventurers. Her decision clearly had layers and hopefully, these layers wouldn’t translate much to him and Alpha Team. “Understood,” Henry responded, thinking back to her interest in him and his party despite her general aversion to adventurers.

As they neared the front of the line, Henry noticed a party unloading an array of collected geodes and looted weapons from a cart. The geodes ranged from small mana crystals to more exotic, almost vibrant materials that he couldn’t easily identify. The looted weapons were nothing to scoff at, either. A massive bronze shield, a chipped but shining silvery sword, a set of spears, three armor vests, another two shields – wait, something didn’t add up. The cart, no larger than the trunk of a small car, seemed to be a bottomless pit of supplies. “How the hell…?” he muttered under his breath.

Ron watched, equally baffled. “That’s some serious clown car shit,” he whispered.

The adventurers in front of them kept pulling an endless array of items from the cart. It was like watching a magician’s endless handkerchief trick, but with a ton – perhaps literally – of loot. “It’s a fucking Tardis,” Henry said, mouth slightly agape.

“Huh?” Ryan asked. “I reckon it is a tad retarded,” he said, squinting at the cart as he nodded.

Henry let out a half-smirk, “No, I mean – nevermind, yeah,” he conceded, deciding not to delve into an explanation about time travel sci-fi at that moment.

Sera, overhearing their conversation, looked at the cart and then at the puzzled faces of Alpha Team. “Unfamiliar with this, are you? It’s a Holding Cart, endowed with spatial enchantments,” Sera explained simply, as if that cleared everything up.

“Spatial enchantments…” Henry echoed, the words feeling foreign on his tongue.

Ron let out a low whistle as he eyed the cart enthusiastically. “Well, that’s one way to pack light,” he commented, no doubt coveting the magic tool.

Just then, the clerk called out, “Next in line!” The voice was female – and distinctly familiar, amplified by what Henry assumed to be magic.

Henry snapped back to the present. Looking to the right, he saw an open space under a hanging sign marked ‘8’. “That’s us.” he said, walking to the counter. As he approached, he realized why the voice sounded familiar.

“Alpha Team!” Mira greeted, recognizing them with a bright smile. “What a pleasant surprise to behold! Ye’ve returned from Hardale, haven’t ye?”

Henry nodded, unzipping his backpack and producing the appropriate quest scroll, signed by Hardale’s village chief, Eldon. Dr. Anderson approached from his right, sliding a report onto the counter while Ryan placed down three bags and one plastic container of teeth.

Mira put on a pair of gloves and opened the bags. The first goblin ears – trophies to confirm the kills. She tallied and totaled them, processing them no differently as she would paperwork, albeit of a more macabre nature. Henry watched, wrinkling his nose slightly. It was gross, sure, but he couldn’t realistically expect every monster to run around with their own sets of dog tags.

Next came the hobgoblin ears – larger, tougher, and just as unpleasant. The third bag contained treant leaves, each marked with unique patterns like a fingerprint or snowflake. It felt less gruesome, more scientific somehow, even if the whole concept of animated trees was as far from reality as one could get. The last confirmations were a group of sharp, right canines from the fenwyrm spawn.

Mira inspected each one, logging them in the Guild’s ledger. “All seems in order,” she commented, skimming the report. After stamping the signed quest scroll to officially mark its completion, she placed it in a secured drop box beside her.

“By the way, we encountered evidence of Nobian activity in Hardale,” Henry mentioned. “It’s in the report.”

“Nobian meddling in affairs, is it? We don’t normally entangle ourselves in international matters, but if they’re rousing monsters on purpose, that’s a dradak of a different color. I’ll need to file an additional report on this,” she said, flipping the pages of the report and reading it more carefully. “I’ll send word to the local Knight Order. Keep an eye on yer Guild Inbox for any missives they might send yer way.”

Henry nodded. He wondered what sort of relation the Guild had to host nations; it seemed like they were some sort of powerful international body – an interesting development that might be of interest to Dr. Anderson and the diplomatic staff back home.

Mira then turned her attention back to the task at hand. She pulled out two sealed envelopes from beneath the counter. “Now then, let me present to ye yer earned rewards for completing the Tier 6 quest posted by Hardale Village,” she announced, handing one envelope to Henry and the other to Sera.

Henry accepted the envelope. 10,000 lumens, not bad considering that they shared the quest with Sera, who received her envelope and tucked it away without opening it.

“Beyond the lumens,” Mira continued, “the folks of Hardale Village have seen fit to offer ye some extra tokens of thanks for yer efforts.”

She consulted a ledger to verify the correct drawer for their specific quest, then walked back to a series of shelves and cabinets behind her. She unlocked one and opened it, retrieving a small, carefully wrapped package. “These items here were reserved just for the ones who’d triumph in the quest. Might not be the grandest of treasures as far as Tier 6 rewards go, but they could well catch yer fancy.”

Henry looked at the contents within: several vials of bluish and greenish liquids, a collection of seeds – useful for Dr. Perdue’s studies, and an assortment of miscellaneous materials from dried herbs to small mana crystals. He accepted the package, nodding appreciatively. The rewards probably would’ve been lackluster for the average adventurer, but they were perfect for fulfilling Alpha Team’s mission parameters. The vials seemed to be healing potions, something he would have to look into for field use.

“As for these,” Mira continued, gesturing toward the plastic box, “Fenwyrm canines – even spawn ones – are rare finds. Ye can choose to keep ‘em or, if ye wish, we’d be willing to take ‘em off yer hands for a fair price.”

Henry considered for a moment. The market price for canines was about a hundred lumens a piece, which meant the box was worth 1,500 lumens, and a bit less if he chose to sell to the Guild directly rather than a local store. It was a tantalizing offer, but the research staff back at the base would probably want a look at these first. “We’ll keep them.”

“No frets,” Mira responded. “Should ye have a change of heart, just swing by anytime and we’ll be happy to make a purchase from ye!”

“Oh,” Henry remembered about the monster parts they collected from the bloodied outskirts of Hardale. They had been split into containers to bring back to Dr. Perdue, a section for sales, and a section for Sera’s kills. “We do have some items we’d like to sell in our… cart outside.”

“Very well then. I’ll see to it right quick. Are ye planning to divvy up the sales as well?” Mira asked.

“We are,” Sera responded. “I’ll go with you.”

“Owens,” Henry said, looking at Ron before jerking his head toward Sera and Mira.

Ron nodded and joined them. As he did so, Mira addressed Henry and the rest of Alpha Team. “I won’t be but a moment. Meanwhile, why not take a look at the Quest Board? It’s been freshly updated with new postings.”

“Thank you, Miss Lenton. We’ll go check out the Quest Board,” Henry replied.

As he walked, he tapped the side of his helmet. “Alpha Lead to Overwatch, requesting a line to Dr. Lamarr.”

“Overwatch acknowledges. Standby, Alpha Lead,” the voice of a communication officer responded. “Connecting you to Dr. Lamarr; it might take a moment.”

Henry approached the Tier 6 Quest Board, its sprawling display reminding him of the vast blackboards in university lecture halls. Around a dozen adventurers clustered below it, most congregating under the ‘Hunting’ category. The board was neatly segmented into distinct sections: ‘Escort’, ‘Reconnaissance’, ‘Acquisition’, Miscellaneous, and the crowded ‘Hunting’. From what he could see over the shoulders of other adventurers, the ‘Hunting’ category seemed to be related to eliminating targets – criminals and bandits with bounties on their heads, powerful monsters that local militias can’t handle, and the typical goblin infestation.

The ‘Miscellaneous’ section covered a variety of mundane tasks from helping local farmers to construction work. Decent pay for contractual work, but not quite aligned with their mission objectives. The ‘Acquisition’ category focused on collecting items for a client. Henry leaned in closer, inspecting one of the quests posted there. It was a simple quest to gather high-purity mana crystals near the Ovinne Mountains. Not the most enticing quest, but it was useful to know where high-purity mana crystals were located. Another quest called for the search for a lost Elemental Amulet, offering a substantial reward. Must be pretty rare if they couldn’t just go ahead and buy a new amulet, he mused.

He moved on to the ‘Reconnaissance’ section, which seemed mostly to deal with investigations, unusual activity, and surveying regions for mining companies. As he skimmed over a quest relating to missing cattle, the communications officer gave Henry an update. “Alpha Lead, Overwatch confirms a successful connection to Dr. Lamarr’s office. Patching you through now.”

“Copy.”

Dr. Lamarr’s voice came through. “Captain Donnager, what do you have for us?”

Henry connected his helmet cam, uploading a live feed of what he was seeing. “Looking at the reconnaissance missions for now.” He scanned a quest titled ‘Unusual Activity in the Grenden Highlands’. “This one’s about investigating a valley in the highlands in between the base and the Ovinne Mountain Range. Any reads there?”

“Nothing on the scale of the Hardale anomaly. Seems interesting, but keep an eye out for anything that might give us more direct insights into magic,” Dr. Lamarr advised.

He went back to the ‘Acquisition’ category, briefly scanning the titles of each quest. One of them was about gathering rare herbs. It didn’t pique his interest, but he lingered for a moment, listening for Dr. Lamarr’s input.

“Hmm, no. Herbs? Maybe Dr. Perdue would be interested, but wouldn’t you have to give them to the merchant that posted the quest? Pass,” she said.

Henry nodded slightly, moving on to the next one. It was about retrieving a stolen artifact – assumed to be in possession of black market arms dealers. “Mmm, maybe. Take a picture of that one just in case,” Dr. Lamarr suggested.

Henry snapped a photo with his helmet cam, cataloging it for potential consideration later. He scanned through a couple more quests, each varying in nature and complexity, but none quite hitting the mark.

“Why don’t we look at another category?” Dr. Lamarr finally proposed.

Henry agreed. ‘Acquisition’ was pretty lackluster today, so he’d have to wait for a decent posting to pop up. He turned his attention to the ‘Escort’ category, which he had yet to scrutinize. It was less crowded, which made some sense. Most of the quests there were for guarding merchant convoys; not many adventurers wanted to get tied up with a single quest for up to weeks, especially not when there were more profitable and efficient ventures out there. However, one of the quests caught his eye. It was posted on a high-quality parchment and neatly written: ‘Escort Scholars to Grenden Forest Ruins.’

“This one looks promising,” Henry said, reading the details. “An escort for archaeologists heading to some Baranthurian ruins in the Grenden Forest. And it's…” he trailed off, seeing the client’s information at the bottom of the sheet, “it’s posted by Kelmithus!”

“Kelmithus, you say? Like, ad Helis, the Archmage?” Dr. Lamarr’s voice had some notable inflections, clearly interested now.

“Affirmative,” Henry responded. “Didn’t think I’d see him here.”

“Well, that certainly adds another layer of significance,” Lamarr considered. “And the Grenden Forest, that’s not far from base. If Sonaran scholars are involved, it definitely warrants investigation. I’d like you to proceed with this one, Captain. This could be a valuable opportunity for our research, and might even interest the Ambassador.”

The possibility of joint research did sound exciting, even if he was barely taking part in it. Henry reached out, carefully detaching the quest scroll from the board. “Will do,” he replied.

As he tucked it away, he heard Kelmithus’ voice behind him. “Choosing your next venture, Captain Donnager?”

Turning, Henry saw the archmage approaching. “Archmage, fancy seeing you here,” he said with a casual nod.

“It seems our paths are aligning frequently these days. Congratulations are in order, I hear, on your recent admittance into Tier 6.”

“Thanks,” Henry said with a polite smile, somewhat surprised that Kelmithus had kept track of their progress. Though, it did make some sense given he declared himself their patron. “It’s been an interesting journey so far.”

“I can imagine,” Kelmithus remarked with a nod. “Perusing the Quest Board, I see?”

“Yeah, just picked up something interesting,” Henry replied, casually holding up the parchment with a slight grin. “An escort mission for scholars, apparently posted by you.”

Kelmithus’ eyes lit up with recognition. “Ah, yes, that quest. It’s heartening to see it caught your interest. It forms a crucial part of our endeavors to unravel the mysteries of Baranthurian technology. We stand on the cusp of establishing a link between their civilization and the Gatebuilders.”

If current Gaerran technology was based on Baranthurian relics, it would stand to reason that the Baranthurians probably learned from the Gatebuilders. “Huh, we just had a run-in with something related to the Baranthurians. A complex Rune System, disarmed thanks to Lady Seraphine’s expertise.”

Kelmithus tilted his head more likely out of curiosity or surprise than acknowledgment. “Lady Seraphine, hm? She’s rather renowned for her solitary nature. She must have taken a liking to your troupe.”

Henry shrugged. For a person who disliked adventurers, she seemed to be rather cordial with them. “Guess so.”

Kelmithus continued, “And on the topic of learning, my presence here sought to ascertain if any brave souls had undertaken my quest. It seems I have an answer now.”

Henry chuckled. “Seems like it. We’re heading back to Armstrong Base soon to bring back our materials and prepare for the quest.”

“Would there perchance be space for an additional passenger?” Kelmithus inquired. “I bear gifts from Duke Vancor for Ambassador Perry, tokens of esteem for our initial diplomatic parleys. It would be my honor to deliver them in person.”

“Gifts, huh? What kind of gifts we talking?” Henry asked.

“A bounty of knowledge – simple tomes detailing our history and magic, and a selection of mana crystals, symbolizing our goodwill,” Kelmithus explained.

Updating their dossiers and getting some more intel on the uncertainty that was magic did sound nice. “Sure, we can give you a lift. It’ll be good to have you along.”

As they finalized their plans, Ron, Sera, and Mira returned from the parking lot. “Archmage, didn’t expect to see you here,” Ron remarked.

“Archmage Kelmithus,” Sera and Mira greeted politely.

“Sir Ron, Lady Seraphine, Miss Lenton,” Kelmithus nodded.

Mira stepped forward with a ledger and a scroll. “Captain, the sale of the monster parts and gear is complete. Your Party Account has been duly credited with 7,720 lumens,” she announced, handing him the scroll.

Henry unrolled it to find a detailed receipt. A quick scan revealed the breakdown: 375 lumens for goblin and hobgoblin kills; 3,500 lumens for the sale of Fenwyrm Spawn materials including hides and scales; 500 lumens for Lesser Treant sap and herbal leaves; and 4,200 lumens from the hobgoblins’ looted gear. The sale amounted to a total of 8,575 lumens, minus a ten percent fee before being rounded up to the nearest ten. He turned to Mira after reviewing the receipt, surprised by the anachronistic nature of her work. “Thank you, Miss Lenton. I appreciate you sorting this out for us.”

Henry held up Kelmithus’ quest scroll. “By the way, we’re planning to take on this quest. Could you register us for it?”

Mira leaned in to get a closer look at the quest, jotting down the details on a sheet. “Of course! I’ll get right to it. Is there aught else ye need?”

Henry shook his head. “Nothing for now. Thanks for all the help.”

“Right then, good luck!” Mira said before returning to her desk, already calling up the next set of adventurers in line.

After a brief, polite exchange, Sera excused herself with a final nod. “I bid you a safe journey back to ‘Around’, Captain.”

“Thanks,” Henry smiled. “Take care.” After waving Sera goodbye, he led the team back to the MRAPs, filling in Ron on the minor change to their trip back.

“Oh,” Ron said as he settled into the driver’s seat. “Well, let’s hope we don’t run into any bandits again,” he joked.

Kelmithus gave a hearty chuckle. “The local brigands would dare not encroach upon us after hearing the rumors.”

Henry smirked at the archmage’s laughter; it was interesting to see his less formal side. “Glad to hear it,” he replied.

Ron nodded proudly. “Damn right. Say, Henry, did you see those potions we got as part of the rewards? I’m kind of curious to see what they can do.”

Henry strapped himself in and turned to look at the package containing the small vials of liquid. “Yeah, saw them. Don’t think I’m too keen on being a test subject, though. What, don’t tell me you’re thinking of trying one?”

Ron’s eyes lit up with excitement. Of course. “Why not? We apparently shit out mana completely. And if they work as intended, they could come in handy. Beats carrying a med kit.”

Henry picked up a vial, swishing the liquid around inside. If true, yes, they could be extremely useful, but he remained unconvinced. “Mmm, yeahhh I don’t know about that one, dude. Sounds like you’re going native already.”

Kelmithus chimed in, “Potions are a staple of improving oneself, from healing to enhancing one’s abilities. While I don’t personally believe any harm would befall you, your caution is indeed prudent.”

“Yeah,” Henry agreed. “I’ll believe you if Dr. Perdue gives the all-clear. Like, what if we drink it and turn into goblins or something?”

“Hmm.” Kelmithus tapped his staff. “I have heard origin tales of goblins and other such fiends. It has been rumored that they originated from magic-less humans whose physiologies reacted poorly to concentrated mana.”

“What?” Ron turned his head back, brows furrowed in concern. “You serious? Yo, wasn’t that manafern soup basically concentrated mana?”

“Indeed. Alas, you may have little time left,” Kelmithus closed his eyes and lowered his head, as if praying for Ron.

Ron glanced at Kelmithus’ expression, completely buying it. “Shit…” Ron whispered, staring straight at the road. As soon as it seemed like Ron’s soul left his body, Kelmithus interjected.

“Hah!” He laughed. “I merely jest. Fear not, the soup was harmless. As for the potions, I’ve yet to hear of any human turning into a goblin from their use. Though, in a world as diverse as this, stranger things have happened.”

“Oh,” Ron gave a heavy sigh, likely relieved out of his mind, “Guess I’ll stick to the soup for now.”

Dr. Anderson nodded, amused by the interaction. “Probably for the best. We’ll leave the magic testing to the experts.”

“Indeed,” Kelmithus agreed. “And speaking of magic, I noticed you’ve obtained a relic. How did you manage to find a Baranthurian Core?”

Henry leaned back as he explained, “Yeah, that was an interesting find. It was part of a Rune System used to control monsters. Didn’t expect to stumble upon something like that in Hardale.”

“Fascinating,” Kelmithus said. “A Baranthurian artifact is a rare discovery. Cores happen to be one of the rarer ones.”

“We received a basic explanation from Lady Seraphine, but who exactly are the Baranthurians?” Dr. Anderson asked.

Kelmithus settled into his seat, preparing himself for a lecture. He seemed almost excited, like he appreciated Dr. Anderson’s interest as a colleague – or even a student. He answered, “A civilization of significant repute that once held dominion over the southern reaches of Eanif, or so the fragments of history suggest. Their societal structure, believed to have mirrored the complexities of a republic, remains shrouded in mystery, with scant traces left of their cultural and political fabric.”

Henry listened, intrigued by this slice of history. He’d seen firsthand what these old relics could do. All things considered, the Baranthurians were basically an ancient alien civilization.

“Their architecture was magnificent, yet few ruins remain. We can only surmise that a majority of their cities were constructed similarly to our own – with cost-efficiency and convenience in mind. The ravages of the eons are not forgiving to materials such as wood and brick,” Kelmithus continued. “The Grenden Forest Ruins, where we shall venture forth next week, stand as one of the rare vestiges of their legacy. Such sites, often erstwhile military bases, repositories of knowledge, or centers of research, are now coveted by both sage and warrior. They beckon as wellsprings of forgotten knowledge and latent power.”

Henry raised an eyebrow, invested in the Baranthurians’ lore. While it made sense that such locations would last longer than the wood and brick of most pre-industrial – and even post-industrial – era structures, the fact that their most important structures survived made things even more interesting. “Sounds like they were pretty influential,” Henry said. “What happened to them?”

Kelmithus sighed, his face taking on an expression Henry had become familiar with during his time with Dr. Anderson. It was the look of a historian grappling with the reality of how little had survived the passage of time – a longing for what could have been. “Theories abound, but one prevalent belief speaks of their fall being wrought by a demonic invasion. This isn’t mere folklore; for our forays into the remnants of Baranthurian strongholds have unearthed demons, lingering yet. Such findings lend credence to these tales of ancient strife and downfall.”

Demonic invasion? Demons were mentioned in the monster dossier but were an incredulous topic nonetheless. These weren’t the fallen angels he had learned about or the horned humanoids in the fantasy anime Ron typically recommended; these were monstrous abominations, devoid of humanity and truly alien in the sense of the word. Even more harrowing, some of these abominations were believed to have evolved, mimicking the races of man and making a cruel mockery of them. It seemed like goblins and similar humanoid monsters could possibly be descended from demons.

“That is a significant claim,” Dr. Anderson commented. “Are there specific archaeological findings or artifacts that directly support this theory of a demonic invasion?”

“Verily,” Kelmithus assented. “Artifacts recovered from various sites sometimes depict skirmishes or drafted strategies against demonic entities. Scholars have also uncovered scripts, fraught with allegory, speaking of these demons as the manifestations of the Baranthurians’ own sins. They tell of a world made right through the sacrifice of a Man divine and sinless. Some believe it was simply a hero made tall through the passage of time. Yet, a considerable amount of evidence points toward a more profound truth. Curiously enough, this narrative bears striking parallels to Sonaran faith – and a handful of other global faiths, for that matter.”

Henry shared a look with Dr. Anderson. Kelmithus’ words sounded all too familiar – and it certainly wasn’t just some classic tale of a hero. “Do you know the name of this divine Man?”

Kelmithus shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. Alas, we can only trust that Sola speak for us, for we know not what we do, nor do we know to whom the debt of our salvation is owed.”

“Are you searching for His name?” Henry asked.

“Always. The quest before us is twofold in intent. Though, our foremost aim here lies in unraveling the mysteries of Baranthurian arcane practices and, perchance, to unearth secrets of their technologies. The adventurers who initially found the ruins brought back tantalizing hints of a facility dedicated to research. It is my fervent hope that what we uncover therein may reveal new understanding in the melding of magic and mechanisms..”

“Rune Systems,” Dr. Anderson muttered.

“Precisely,” Kelmithus said. “Should this indeed be a sanctuary of research, it might yet serve as a linchpin in unraveling the elusive connection between the Baranthurians and the enigmatic Gatebuilders. The presence of artifacts pertaining to the latter within these halls would solidify such a theory.”

Henry focused on the road ahead, recognizing the familiar structures of Armstrong Base in the distance. Glancing upward, he spotted an MQ-9 Reaper circling over the base, its presence a new addition to their defenses and signaling the completion of a basic airstrip. The development was reassuring, considering their recent encounter with the Minotaur Chieftain. The thought of having air support on standby was a comforting one, especially if they ever faced threats more formidable than what they had already encountered.

Kelmithus continued his explanation, pausing only briefly to survey the new changes to Armstrong Base. “The Baranthurian civilization faced a conflict of unimaginable scale. Based on the ruins and artifacts discovered, we surmise it was a prolonged struggle, possibly spanning decades if not centuries. Beleaguered, the Baranthurians were pushed to their limits, eventually succumbing to the ravages of war. It’s theorized that the resulting turmoil led to a dark age, a period where the races of mankind regressed.”

“And what happened to the demons?” Ron asked, passing by the checkpoint and guiding the MRAP toward the garage area.

“The remnants of that invasion likely lingered for countless generations,” Kelmithus speculated. “Remaining demons entrenched themselves, holding sway over vast territories. It was only in the epochs that followed, barely a few millennia past, that most of the major Demon Lords were vanquished, thereby granting the nascent civilizations the respite to emerge and flourish.”

Ron brought the MRAP to a stop, turning off the engine as he looked at Kelmithus. “Quite the history. Are there still any demon lords we need to worry about?”

Kelmithus held his ornate box of gifts, responding as he opened the door. “Indeed, though their whereabouts remain veiled. These ancient beings are likely slumbering in hidden bastions or quietly marshaling their forces.”

Ominous. Henry stepped outside, stretching as he did so. Hoping to end on a lighter note, he joked, “Well, let’s hope they sleep for another few thousand years. We’re gonna unload and head over there.” He pointed his thumb behind him, toward Dr. Perdue’s lab. “I’ll see you at the front entrance in a few days?”

“Very well, Captain,” Kelmithus agreed, stepping out into the brisk air of the base. “I shall await our expedition with great anticipation.”